


Curiously Satisfied

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:12:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: Seriously, I did not just write tentacle fic as a challenge to myself. I did not.Okay I did. Look away - look away.Tony+tentacles = Steve very very distressed and horny.





	Curiously Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge to myself. I wanted to find out if I could write a trope that I really don't have a kink for and kind of scratch my head and say, huh? So here's my entry into tentacles.

Ignoring the calls of his team mates, Steve marched up to Tony’s bedroom. Steve had been away on a separate mission for SHIELD and the team had been called out. During the clash between the Avengers and some strange amorphous cloud that, from all reports caused people to be sickened, it took Thor’s mighty hammer and a good dose of a rain storm close to a Tsunami to clear out lower Manhattan. They still weren't sure what happened or who was behind it, but Natasha reported that Tony had taken ill. Steve couldn't really figure out how it could have happened considering he was in the armor at the time. It had been Clint who told Steve that Tony opened his faceplate when trying to help an older lady who was terrified and wobbling on her legs from the nausea. 

As the team leader and feeling quite guilty for leaving them on their own to fight a cloud of ickyness (not Steve’s terminology), he felt compelled to find out how Tony was riding this one out. It was a little puzzling that neither Clint nor Natasha had been affected by the fog. 

As Alice once said, _Curiouser and curiouser._

He approached Tony’s door, hesitated. He knew as a sick kid he hated people watching him vomit up his guts. He stopped before he knocked. This wasn't right. He should leave Tony in peace. He started to turn when he heard the most awful (and strangely erotic sound) he'd ever heard. 

“What the hell?” Steve said and paused to lean in toward the door. 

That's when he heard the groan that set off all of his buttons and his jeans suddenly felt too tight. This was ridiculous. He was not getting hard listening to someone get sick. That just – no! His head was not going there. He was a soldier after all and he could control himself. 

Another loud moan and Steve raised his eyebrow. “Apparently not.” His dick strained against his zipper. He needed to leave. Obviously Tony was fine and wanted privacy. Lord, he's not a pervert he's not going to stand there and listen to Tony masturbating. Once again he started away but that was when a clear voice from the room yelled, “Oh Steve.”

Wrong. So wrong. Tony was in there alone and sick. He needed Steve. Steve tried the door and thankfully it was unlocked. No need to bust it down. He rushed in and glanced around. Finding no one in the sitting room he headed toward the bedroom in the back. The door to the room was partially cracked open and Steve knew he had to get to Tony so he didn't knock. He just opened the door. 

Hours later he was sure he would never be able to re-enact his reaction. The sight should have been monstrous. It should have disgusted Steve. He should have turned around, gotten his shield, and called the Avengers. Instead, he stood there mesmerized by what had happened or was happening to Tony. Or maybe it wasn’t Tony at all. 

He blinked and tried to tell himself to wake up. But he couldn't. He couldn't even swallow. His mouth drooled, his tongue felt too thick, and he dripped with precome wetting his pants. That hadn't happened in ages. 

He staggered backward, thinking to escape the scene before him but his legs refused to listen to him. Standing there, gape mounted Steve tried to reconcile what he saw with what he understood as reality. Because reality got warped. Really, really warped. 

Tony. Tony was not the Tony he knew. Not anymore. He was – well not Tony. He looked like Tony all the way down to his hips. And then oh lord. The way he moved those tentacles over his body should be illegal. And yes. Steve tried to clear out the image but the truth slithered right in front of him. 

From the wonder of Tony's Adonis belt down he no longer had two legs. But something more akin to – Steve just couldn't face it. He couldn't. It was a nightmare. But the way they moved and glided around Tony’s body drew Steve. He stumbled forward and found himself further into the room closer to Tony's bed. 

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to join me?” 

That startled Steve out of his stupor. He managed a shaken breath and then said, “What happened, Tony. What's going on?”

Tony bend down and looked at the red and gold tentacles –eight of them- waving sensuously over the massive bed. One lifted up and reached out to Steve. He backed up but couldn't deny that the hypnotic motion of the tentacles went straight to his cock. He nearly cupped a hand over his fly. As it was he put the heel of his hand there and gritted his teeth, trying to stop his erection.

“Oh my dear Captain, my lovely Captain, don't you like it? Look what they can do?” Tony said even as one of the tentacles disappeared underneath him and Tony arched his body. That did it. Steve saw – because the other tentacles waved away and Steve watched as Tony slipped a long tentacle inside of himself. He made little mewling noises and something that might have been his cock at one time but could only be called a phallus now throbbed. It oozed come as Tony moaned around his tentacle. 

And Steve admitted it. He couldn't stop it. He moaned as well. His knees went weak and he flailed and finally fell to the bed. 

“Finally Captain. You're in my bed.” 

He wanted to leave; he longed to leave but not a nerve cell or muscle cell in his body listened to him. Instead he crawled up the bed and gazed down at Tony. His messed hair, and dilated pupils just turned over in Steve's gut. His lips were perfect and red as if he'd been sucking on a red popsicle. As Steve hovered over him, trying his damnedest to focus and to assess the medical issues and danger of the situation he felt the glide of a warm touch against his face. It didn't tickle or alarm. It caressed and cradled. The suckers quivered and puckered at him like a thousand mouths kissing him at once. He couldn't stop the groan from bubbling out of his mouth. 

Whatever willpower Captain America once had disintegrated as the many arms, the tentacles embraced him, twining around him, slithering and slipping. He didn't protest. He didn't think he had a word left in his brain. Tony brought him closer so that their mouths were just a whisper away from one another. 

“Say yes, my Captain, oh Captain.” Tony flicked out his tongue and tasted his lips. Steve couldn't have stopped if all the rage of the Titans came down on their heads. 

Steve lunged forward and captured Tony's mouth, even as the many limbs worked with elegance and grace to deftly disrobe him. In only moments, he was naked atop Tony. He tried to tear himself away, tried to ask Tony why he wasn't upset, sick with the idea of being turned into this creature. This wasn't Tony. It couldn't be Tony. Steve had fallen into an alien trap. But for all of his rational thoughts, Steve found he couldn't stop. The taste of Tony’s mouth was sweetness and tang like sugar and bourbon. The feel of Tony beneath him sang along all of Steve's nerves until he cried out and begged for Tony to take him. 

The idea of it, the thought of being encompassed by Tony, drawn into him, and filled by him overwhelmed Steve and he shuddered as those seeking limbs – tentacles – touched and stroked along his side, his arms, up his legs. His very skin felt on fire. 

Finally the suckers tentatively probed at his cock and Steve moaned. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked out; he tried not to think, tried not to comprehend exactly what was happening. This couldn't be Tony. It had to be some imposter. How would he ever look at Tony again? How could he sit in the common room and yearn for Tony in silence ever again? He let the creature with Tony’s face, those intelligent eyes, those rough callus hands take him and he allowed it. More than allowed it. He welcomed it. 

All the while he moralized over the very concept of having sensual tentacles caress his body, linger near his inner thigh, Tony murmured to him. Like a serpent’s hiss in his ear, he whispered, “Can’t believe this is real. You’re in my arms, all of them. Finally. I waited for you. I thought you would never come, never realize.”

Steve could not discern the meaning behind the words. All he knew – all he could possibly comprehend was the sensation of touch. How his body trembled under the many tender tentacles as they wrapped around his arms, around his torso, and creeped ever closer to his upright cock. He whined as Tony’s tentacles came and went along the base of his cock, teasing him, heightening his need. 

He wanted this, he begged and pleaded with Tony. “Want you, please, Tony please.”

A slick tentacle slipped up to his face and lined his cheek, sucking and tasting as it did. “Why did you never say? Why did it have to come to this?”

Steve knew full well that he was under some kind of spell. It must be alien and this thing beneath him had stolen his deepest desire to be with Tony and used it against him. The world will fall and he will be to blame because he could not stop. Even if he wanted to, the desire ran too deeply, coursed through his veins. A drug. He imagined it must be like that, an addiction. It changed the way his brain processed, the way he responded. Everything about his needs, his wants, his desires consumed his rational thoughts. 

“Please,” he begged and felt the flush of shame heat his cheeks, but was gratified when a tentacle slipped lower still and circled his ass, so close his eyes rolled up and he fell limp next to Tony. But it didn’t matter because Tony’s tentacles handled him like a marionette puppet. Grasping him and adjusting him until he was on all fours over Tony with tentacles holding him in place around his wrists and ankles. A tentacle wormed its way into Steve’s mouth, and then Steve’s engorged cock breached Tony’s entrance – an entrance that felt strange and wrong and so deliciously wonderful. And then the final piece came into place when a tentacles felt and then thrust inside of Steve.

He wanted to cry out, and to sob, but he couldn’t with the tentacle sliding further down his throat, robbing him of air. The suction cups pulsated on his tongue and he jerked in response, so hot and so bothered by the sensations all over his body. He needed release and then the tentacles probing his ass stretched outward, expanding as the suction cups latched on inside. He wept, though it was muffled and barely audible. 

There were too many sensations, too many feelings all at once. From the thrusting limbs in his mouth and in his ass, to the feeling of his cock inside of Tony. It felt tight and velvety, but also like a hard shell around it. It scraped and hurt but Steve still thrust, still pounded into Tony as the free tentacles encouraged him. The throbbing of his heart deafened him to all else as the continual needy feelings came at him like a barrage. He couldn’t fight any of the hunger – it ate at his core and he couldn’t deny he needed this like he needed air. All he could do was surrender to his desires. 

He felt the ligula or the tip of the tentacle in his ass, seek out and find his prostate. It shifted and then the suckers began to massage his sweet spot. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t speak even if his mouth was free of the tentacle gagging him, depriving him of the air he so desperately needed but would give up, never want again as long as he could live in this moment. 

In the distance he heard Tony commanding him, “More, harder, harder.”

He strove to answer the call. He slammed into Tony and then the hard shell seemed to vibrate and clamp down. At that moment he afforded himself the ability to look, to find out, to reveal the ugly truth – that he gave himself over to his own depravity. 

It only served to throw him into a ravaging pace. Tony’s phallus pulsed out long strands of come as his entrance with its beak like opening engulfed Steve’s cock, tremoring around him, sending quick beats up through the root of Steve’s cock to roil his gut. Another tentacle came from behind him and caressed his sac before taking hold of it and twisting, ever so slightly. 

It sent Steve into a frenzy. He sobbed around the tentacle in his mouth as Tony’s entrance clasped around him and the tentacle in Steve’s ass oscillated and pulsed. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. There was no rational, no logical portion of his brain anymore. The last thing he knew he came as he opened his eyes to see Tony’s blood red eyes staring back at him.

He screamed. 

And opened his eyes to the quiet of their bedroom. He looked around and saw nothing. Nothing at all. The moonlight filtered in through the blinds and Tony slept peacefully next to him. They’d been together a full six months. He flipped over onto his back and placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm his drumming heart from his nightmare. 

“What was that?” Steve muttered. He was achingly hard and thought about waking up Tony for a little night time respite. But he didn’t dare. He didn’t want to get off on thinking about Tony being some kind of octopus man thing. He rubbed at his face and shivered.

“So, my dear Captain, you liked it?”

He sat up straight to find Loki sitting in the chair across from the bed. He should sound the alarm, call the Avengers, but what could he say? Loki gave him a dirty dream? How could he explain that he was hard and – he apparently also had a wet dream? He felt like a teenager.

“You did like it, I see,” Loki smirked. 

He wanted to put his hands over the stained blanket, but then he thought of what Loki said, “What did you do?” He hated the idea of looking but he had to know if Tony was still – well Tony and not a tentacled version of himself. He flung the blankets back and Tony curled up, still asleep and still very human.

“Oh you’re disappointed.”

Steve growled. He wasn’t; he really wasn’t disappointed. Not at all, he didn’t need Tony to have tentacles. He didn’t need to feel that full, that stuffed, that overcome. He didn’t want to be undone. He glared at Loki.

“Oh we can fix that, Captain, we can fix that.” Loki rose and a green mist surrounded him.

Steve stuttered out his response. “Loki! N-no!”

But he was too late.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I thought so too.


End file.
